Wednesday, January 26, 2011

With a Machete.

I walk sleeplessness
like a bean field in summer;
through weeds growing wild

out of furrowed thoughts,
once planned and planted in rows;
now, sickled off short.

Into morning dreams
frost crawls, over ridge and rut;
and I go again,

to walk sleeplessness
like a bean field in summer;
through weeds growing wild.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Places I've Been

(Lyrics from an old song.)


Sitting here all alone

Wondering where the time has gone

I’m waiting, for someone

To take me away...


Home to the waving fields

The places I’ve been;

Too numerous to count

In my dreams.


The shadows are getting longer

As the yellow face sinks under the sea.

The world darkens

And I want to go...


Home to the waving fields

The places I’ve been;

Too numerous to count

In my dreams.


Lonely before I never have been

People, always people all around me,

When all I really want is for you to take me...


Home to the waving fields

The places I’ve been;

Too numerous to count

In my dreams.